


Better Make the Most of Our One Night Together

by WerepuppyBlack



Category: We Will Rock You - Elton/May/Taylor
Genre: Consensual, F/M, First Time, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 11:26:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11508456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WerepuppyBlack/pseuds/WerepuppyBlack
Summary: They're going to be caught. Probably killed. They've got one night.





	Better Make the Most of Our One Night Together

She had ended up on top, Galileo wasn't sure how that had happened. They had been kissing, his hand nervously coming up to caress her face, and then they had fallen to the side. There had been shifting, as they kept kissing, neither wanting to pull away from the other longer than it took to grab much needed breath, hands wandering carefully, almost cautiously over each other. They had shifted, him over her, but clearly Scaramouche had not been fond of this. They sat more comfortably now, his back against the metal of the van, her sitting straddling his laps, hands on his shoulders as she continued to kiss him.

Her mouth was hot on his, and he pulled her closer, desperate for more contact though he didn't know how much closer she could get; she was practically sitting on his crotch, hands running through his hair. Her tongue swept across his and he felt his hips give a jerk. She moaned, low, into his mouth, and Galileo paused, repeating the action slowly. Another moan. He smirked against her mouth.

"Don't go getting idea, Gaz," Scaramouche muttered at him, though her voice was ragged and heavy, her hands trailing over his top as if tracing the shape of the chest beneath it. "Two c'n play at that game," she smirked, her own hips jerking, rubbing against him in a way that made him give a strangled groan, grabbing at her waist to help her move faster. "Oh gods, Gaz," she muttered, steadying herself against his shoulders, jerking her hips back and forth against his.

"I," he started, being cut out with a kiss from Scaramouche, her sucking on his bottom lip for a moment gaining another strangled groan before letting go. "I don't know what I'm..." he breathed, looking up at her with wide eyes. The smile that crossed her face sent a jolt running down him, and the softness of her fingers on his cheek made him swallow heavily.

"Just do as I tell you," she whispered, her hips starting to move again, Galileo's matching her rhythm. He stared at her for a moment, leaning in to kiss the nape of her neck, where neck met shoulder, hands and arms wrapping round and puling her closer still. "Galileo Figaro," she muttered softly, pulling at the collar line of his top. She moved her hips again, this time in a swirling figure of eight movement and he couldn't keep back at gasp. She looked triumphant. A hand reached down between them and squeezed lightly at the bulge in his jeans.

"Scara..." he choked.

"Just... sit back, Dreamer," she smiled that maddening smile again, pulling down the zip of his jeans too slow for Galileo's liking. His hips jerked forward, and Scaramouche tutted. She reached inside his jeans, sliding down against him, her hand squeezing gently as she stroked. His eyes drifted close then snapped back open. That was definitely a mouth where a mouth had never been before and he had to fight hard not to thrust his hips forward. Scaramouche moved her head slowly, tongue licking as her eyes flickered up to look at him. Galileo wasn't sure what she saw, but he reached forward for her.

"Here I am," he growled under his breath, deliberately rubbing himself against her, "rock me like a hurricane." Scaramouche gave him a challenging smirk in returning. She pushed aside her underwear, lining herself up with him, and sliding down on to him.

He was... the feeling wasn't unfamiliar to Scaramouche, but gods did it somehow feel better. "Gazza," she whispered, lifting herself up. He was watching her with wide eyes, darkened with lust and passion and his hips jerked upwards roughly and oh gods the friction was unbelievable. She reached forward for his hand, directly it where she wanted.

"Please..." she muttered.

His fingers were long and elegant and Scaramouche could only moan as Gaz played her. There was no other way to describe it. A word entered her head - _strumming_. He strummed her like one of the rock gods old guitars, tuning her till she was crying out in a perfect pitch, muscles she didn't know she had squeezing around him. She felt him grow harder inside her, giving a grunt as his own release came.

"Scaramouche ... Scaramouche ... " he muttered, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers. She kissed him back lazily.

"Galileo Figaro," she answered.


End file.
